


Running With The Thieves

by claryharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Heartache, Heartbreak, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, Love, M/M, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Sad Harry, Sad Louis, So much angst, meet me in the hallway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 21:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15228102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claryharry/pseuds/claryharry
Summary: inspired by 'meet me in the hallway' and a few other songs.a fictional interpretation of the events that made the songs on Harry Styles, and maybe what happens after.





	Running With The Thieves

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello! 
> 
> So I've never actually published anything in the One Direction fandom on here, but I figured it's been 8 years so why not. 
> 
> Just as a disclaimer: This is completely a work of fiction. I do not own any of the music or people referenced. The events are in no way accurate or meant to be harmful to anyone and are simply a thought I couldn't get out of my head. 
> 
> I don’t know how long this will be, but I know there are at least two more songs I’d like to cover in getting to the end of the story I have in my mind. 
> 
> Lastly, thanks to Lex for putting up with me all the time and all of the texts I send when I’m in the writing process. She’s endured it for six years and I’m glad she hasn’t deserted me yet. 
> 
> -Elle

If Harry had been told four years ago that he’d be sitting in Louis’ hotel room with a hole in his heart, watching as the other lads laughed and goofed off, he wouldn’t have believed it. Because how could he ever be in the same room as Louis and _not_ be the one laughing and acting a twat with him? 

The Harry of four years ago was so, so naive. 

“Alright, mates,” Niall said from his spot on the oversized couch in the corner of the hotel room. Harry only glanced at him briefly before looking down at the stain on the plush white carpet.

_Shouldn’t they be able to afford stain remover at such a posh hotel?_ Harry thought. _Maybe I’ll buy them some stain remover._

Sounds from the footie match on TV served as a music track for Niall’s voice to follow. “It’s been a right laugh, but we’ve got an early morning and I, for one, don’t wanna look like I drank my weight in pints tomorrow.” 

Louis leaned in from the balcony where he’d retreated to five minutes prior with Liam. He blew a gray puff of smoke out of his mouth before dropping his half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray and walking back into the room, Liam close behind him. 

“Yeah, mate,” Louis said, looking anywhere but Harry. “We should all fuck off and go to bed.” 

Harry started his walk to the door before Niall or Liam. He felt their eyes following him. He heard Louis sigh and mutter something under his breath. It took everything in him not to turn around. “Night, lads,” he said to no one in particular, gripping the door handle and stepping out into the hallway. 

He took a deep breath, running his hands through his messy hair and wondering how he ended up here, like this.

And the thing was, wondering was stupid because he knew. He knew how he ended up in Texas —or was it North Carolina? He didn’t know where he was anymore. But he knew how he ended up in some random state in the middle of their final tour, feeling farther away from Louis than he ever could’ve imagined. 

** 

Louis didn’t know why he felt like having a scotch on ice at three o’clock in the morning, he just did. Maybe it was the way Harry had sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the same stain on the ground the entire night. Or maybe it was how he bolted the second Niall gave him an out.

Louis knew it was his own fault, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

He could really go for a blunt right about now. 

He stepped out into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind him since he knew Liam was a fairly light sleeper and was in the room next to him. 

The ice machine was a few doors down, towards the room Harry was staying in. He shifted the ice bucket in his hands and turned that direction, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw a familiar mop of curly brown hair and long, gangly limbs leaned up against the wall. 

Harry looked up at Louis, his eyes rimmed with red. 

“What are you doing out here?” Louis asked. 

Harry shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

Louis could just say ‘okay’ and keep walking. He could go get his ice and have a scotch and then pass out while pushing down his feelings. Louis could do a lot of things, but he knew he wouldn’t. “Why not?” 

“You know why,” Harry said. “Bed feels cold, room too stiff.”

The weight that was constantly on Louis’ shoulders seemed to grow a few pounds heavier. “Harry, it’s been a year.”

Harry shifted his legs so that they were sprawled out straight in front of him. “Trust me, I know how long it’s been, Lou. Don't need you to remind me.” 

Louis couldn’t help it, he walked closer and kept walking closer until he was stood right in front of Harry, looking down at him. He thought if he looked past the obvious exhaustion in Harry’s bones and the way his eyes seemed to shine a little less brightly, he could still see the sixteen year old boy he fell in love with. 

“Some nights are just harder than others,” Harry continued. 

And Louis really didn’t know what to say to that. 

Harry looked up at him, sniffing loudly. That’s when Louis noticed the white powder under Harry’s nose. Harry reached up and wiped it off sloppily with the back of his hand. 

“Are you _high?”_ Louis asked, incredulous. They had an interview in five hours. Fucking around and getting shit-faced before major responsibilities was Louis’ specialty, _not_ Harry’s.

God, it used to be that if Louis even tried to sneak one drag from a joint the night before a big day, Harry would suddenly be there. He’d pry it out of Louis’ hands, snuffing it out all while pressing soft little kisses against Louis’ neck.

”Later, love,” he’d whisper. “Gotta be sharp for tomorrow.” 

And Louis would listen because Louis was in love. 

A cold, bitter laugh that Louis didn’t recognize rang through the empty hallway. “It hurts, Lou. Gotta do something for the pain.” 

Louis closed his eyes, sliding down the wall next to Harry and trying not to let his broken heart show all over his face. He knew he was probably doing a piss-poor job of it. 

“Just let me in. Why won’t you just let me in,” Harry whispered, staring up at the ceiling. 

There wasn’t anything Louis could think of to say in that moment, so he kept quiet and let the sound of his ragged breathing fill the silence.

“Let’s go back to your room,” Harry said. 

Louis squeezed his closed eyes tighter. “You know I can’t. Not with you.” 

“Why not?” Harry turned his gaze to Louis right as Louis decided it was a good time to open his eyes. He wished he hadn’t. Harry looked absolutely wrecked. Louis tried to steady his breathing when Harry continued speaking. “Why can’t we just try again? Please, I was young and stupid and I didn’t realize that having a little bit of you was better than having none of you. Just please, Lou. Please can we try again?”

A sob worked it’s way into Louis’ throat, but he pushed it down, keeping his tears at bay. “I don’t _want_ to try,” he said shakily.

“Oh, Lou.” Harry let his head drop to Louis’ shoulder, his curls tickling the thin skin of Louis’ neck and right collarbone. “Why are you lying to me. Always can tell when you’re lying,” Harry murmured.

“Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Louis answered. He felt Harry snort, the lines of Harry’s body against his all a little too familiar. A little too much. 

“Low blow. ‘M too high to come up with a witty remark.” 

“You need to go to sleep,” Louis said. 

Harry shook his head against his shoulder.

Louis hated that if he closed his eyes for long enough, he could pretend it was 2012 and they were in their London flat, cuddled on the couch.

Harry made a sound high in the back of his throat. “Can we please just work this out? I can’t do it anymore.”

“Harry, no.” Louis’ voice was firm. The weight from Harry’s head disappeared from his shoulder and he turned to find Harry’s eyes burning into his own. 

_“Why?”_

_Because you deserve better,_ Louis thought. _Because I can’t stand to be the person that holds you back._ “Because I don’t want you anymore,” he said instead. 

Harry nodded his head. “Okay, Lou. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

To anyone else, the response wouldn’t have made any sense seeing as Louis had just told Harry he didn’t want him. But Harry always could see straight through him. 

What Harry meant was, “I’ll be here when you decide to stop lying to me, but most importantly, to yourself.” 

Harry didn’t get that Louis wanted Harry to move on for Harry’s sake, not for his own. He’d lay down in front of a train if he thought it meant Harry would get everything he deserved. 

Louis felt his heart break a little more. He leaned forward to press a kiss against Harry’s forehead, letting his lips linger on Harry’s overheated skin for a moment too long. The warmth felt good on his cold lips. “Go to sleep, H.” 

The ice was long forgotten, Louis stood numbly and grabbed the bucket. He turned and began the short walk back to his hotel room, leaving Harry slumped against the wall in the hallway.

Two years later, Louis would put on Harry’s debut solo album for the first time and turn it off after the end of the first song.

He wouldn’t listen again for another two months. 


End file.
